My sister and I have, in our own advanced years, started referring to our parents as, The Old People.
We mean no disrespect.
At 70 and 72, they are old. Or at least, they act old.
They show all the signs.
disucssing all of their ailments, over and over again
drive 40 in a 50mph zone
bicker back and forth over the little things
don’t like noise and animal fur
keep the tv tuned to FoxNews 24/7
only use one of the showers in the house so the other doesn’t have to be cleaned
eat dinner before 5pm
have become almost fragile
It’s the last one there that hit me last weekend when I was in Roanoke visiting them.
Mom had a couple of “biggie” doctor visits so I decided to tag along with them.
Knowing, of course, that it has Been a Year for me, apparently they decided having me all to themselves for the weekend was the perfect time to spoil me. And I did feel spoiled. Every day revolved around what I did or did not want to do. They catered to my every need. And better yet…didn’t ask any questions or poke and prod to get information.
That, in and of itself, was a miracle. Or another sure sign they are getting old.
When I wanted to talk about stuff…they wanted to hear about it. They offered insight, but didn’t lecture. They expressed concern, but didn’t berate me about taking better care of myself, losing the pounds I have packed on the last year or so, etc.
The fact that my little sister and her family live two blocks away was a super added bonus. The Old People pushed me to spend time alone with my sister, too. That’s definitely never happened before. Mom usually wanted to come along, not to be excluded.
Looking back on it now, who were those people I spent four days with last week?
I am definitely going back soon. It was exactly what I needed.